Tuesday, September 23, 2014

The Philly Half Was Kind of Crappy

Sometimes in a race, especially a longer race, you know in
the first few steps that it’s not your day. I knew before I had even run a half
mile of the Rock and Roll Philly Half on Sunday that I was already walking a
fine line between feeling bad and being downright miserable. From that point
on, the goal was to stay on the “bad” side of the line for as long as possible.
That would end up being about seven miles. But more on that in a second.

First, let’s talk about the week leading up to the race. I spent the weekend in Charlotte where on
Saturday, I ran in a new pair of shoes (rookie mistake) that left me sore and
blistered after a 9 mile loop. Sunday, I did a 5 mile progression (6:00-5:20)
where I struggled to stay upright on sections of very slick boardwalk. I was
probably being overly and unnecessarily cautious as
I have a history of falling down. I didn’t think anything of the combo of
minor issues until Tuesday when I did my final workout for the race (1.5 miles
@ 7:50, 4x800 @ 2:30) and had to stretch my calf between every interval. By the
cool down it was obvious I had a calf strain – minor, but needing TLC. I spent
the next three days not running a step or doing anything for that matter
besides icing, eating handfuls of arnica and massaging the sore muscle. I tried
to convince myself that I wasn’t losing any fitness (I wasn’t), but mentally it’s
very unsettling to take three days off leading up to a goal race.

As this all unfolded, the forecast for Sunday got worse by
the day. By Saturday morning, it was clear that race time would be soupy to say
the least. This concerned me because in the past, I’ve
survived heat but crumbled
in the humidity. Terry and I talked on the phone before I got on the train
to Philadelphia. We decided I would not race if the calf was still an issue on
the afternoon shakeout run, but the weather alone would not be enough reason to
pull the plug. After all, not every race can be ideal conditions. Terry thought
based on recent workouts (including a very tough/satisfying 2x5 mile @ 5:26
pace) I was capable of running 1:12 or a little faster on a good day. Seeing as
how this was not going to be a good day the thought was 1:13-1:14.

Saturday in Philadelphia was warm, but pleasant. My first
run in three days felt fine if a little rusty, but my calf was probably 85%
which for me was good enough to race. I did my best to not think about the
unexpected time off and instead just think of it as a very good taper and do
everything I would normally do the night before a big race. There was an ice
bath, a giant bottle of water mixed with Nuun, stretching, obligatory race kit
photo for Instagram, sushi dinner and a beer. Race morning started with coffee,
quinoa waffles and peanut butter then a jog from the hotel to the starting
line. I decided to leave my Garmin in the hotel and run on feel.

The air was indisputably thick as we waited in the corral. During
a shoot with Kara Goucher a few weeks prior to the race we talked about running
the first half of the race together (to be completely honest, I am not entirely
sure how serious of a plan this was). Either way, I bagged the idea at the line
knowing that my humidity history was poor and she is an Olympian capable of
adapting much better than I am. When the horn sounded we went out in a nice
pack, rolling through the first mile in 5:20. It was a bit fast, but to be
expected on this course. From there I settled into 5:30 pace (1:12 on the nose)
but it didn’t feel easy. I knew that I couldn’t hold on for 13 miles unless I
clicked into a rhythm and when that didn’t happen by the 4th mile it
was obvious it was only a matter of time before a blow-up. I figured in the best case scenario I hold on
for 10 and see what happens. In my mind the only option was to go for it.

That brings us to mile 7. Having gone through the 10k at 34:20
which is still right around 1:12, I was starting to struggle. I was running
with Greg Cass from CPTC and decided to just stick with him as long as I could.
Without a Garmin, I had no clue what pace we were going. It still felt like
5:30, so I was shocked to see 5:40-something at the next mile. The miles got
increasingly slower and dangerously close to 6:00 but never any easier.
Dropping out crossed my mind, but I resisted the temptation. Besides, I wasn’t
really sure where I would go if I did quit. It seemed like the best way to get
to the finish line was to just keep running there although what I was doing was
starting to look less like running and more like self-torture. I stayed with
Greg for five more miles during which we would occasionally share a brief
exchange about how miserable we were. At mile 12, I had nothing left. I slowed
dramatically and felt like it was going to take everything I had just to
finish. Greg and two women pulled away and I knew barring some burst of
non-existent energy, I was going to run much slower than the very bottom of the
range I had expected to run.

1:15:29 is that time. I don’t like it, but I like it better
than DNF. I’m not sure what I learned during the experience other than more
proof that I can’t handle humidity. But I am happy and surprised not to be too
upset about it in the grand scheme of things. Sure, I’m bummed to have spent an
entire summer targeting a race that ended up being a dud. However, I don’t
think the race is any indication of lack of fitness, preparation, aging, etc.
It was just a bad race. I know this wouldn’t be my attitude three years ago.

The big picture is that I really enjoyed training this summer, ran some workouts I was proud of and got into the best shape I
have been in since 2012. After a year of trying and failing, I have finally figured out how to maximize training quality with an odd work and sleep schedule. This race was not my chance to capitalize on that, but
the window hasn't closed. I’m 3 days shy of 31 and that’s still plenty young to
pull down some PRs.